Little House On The Voyager
by MrSubway2
Summary: Here is an attempt at a crossover of two of my favorite shows, House, M. D., and Star Trek: Voyager. In this story, The Doctor recruits the help of House to cure a strange illness. Soon, he wonders which is worse. The sickness, or House!
1. The Sickness

Here is an attempt at a crossover of two of my favorite shows, House, M. D., and Star Trek: Voyager. In this story, The Doctor recruits the help of House to cure a strange illness. Soon, he wonders which is worse. The sickness, or House!

Chapter One: The Sickness

Captain's log, star date 51501.4. We have entered a section of space which we are told may contain a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant. A ship of friendly aliens called the Uvari have told us that ships transversing this sector have sensed strange readings synonymous with wormholes. This move will take us slightly off course, but it will be worth it if we can find a shortcut home. All the crew is, understandably, excited yet cautious. We have been disappointed many times before. Our excitement is marred, however, by one of our crewmates falling ill.

"You have absolutely NO bedside manner," said B'Elanna. "I feel like crap and you can't seem to do anything about it!" "I assure you," said the Doctor, "I am doing everything in my power to help you. I am puzzled that none of my treatments seem to be working." Puzzled wasn't exactly how the Doctor felt. In fact, he was worried. B'Elanna had been sick for two days now, with what could only be called a cold. That in itself was disturbing, since the Rhino virus had long been exterminated from Earth, and its equivalents on the Klingon homeworld and the rest of the Alpha Quadrant had been eradicated as well. The Doctor had to actually look up the symptoms in his archives to figure out what was going on. "You have all the symptoms of a cold, but the therapies I've used should have gotten rid of it," said the doctor. "Well, they haven't," screamed a stuffy nosed B'Elanna. "I'm dying, damnit! I can't breath, my whole body hurts, and if I produce anymore snot I'll be able to fill an entire cargo bay! Do something!" "Please, Lieutenant," said the Doctor calmly, "I can assure you that I will find a solution."

At that moment, the Captain entered sickbay. She was also concerned that B'Elanna had been sick so long, and she wanted an update. "How do you feel," said Captain Janeway. "Like crap," replied B'Elanna. "This has to be the worst feeling ever. I'm weak, cold, stuffed up and miserable, and this damn doctor doesn't have a clue!" "I'm sure the Doctor is doing everything he can," said Janeway. "Any update Doctor?" "I'm afraid not. She has every symptom of a severe 20th century cold, but that shouldn't be. I've done a scan, and simply cannot locate the virus causing the problem. All scans show that she is virus free." "It must be alien," said Janeway. "Is it absolutely necessary to keep B'Elanna in sickbay? I know that, ahem, Klingons don't like being locked up." B'Elanna was about to snap at the Captain, but Janeway gave her a little sideways wink and B'Elanna smiled. "Until I can determine if this is contagious, I think it would be prudent to keep her here," the Doctor said. "Very well," said the Captain. "Even though the symptoms don't seem too serious, I'd rather not have an epidemic on this ship, especially now when we might have found a way back. We're six weeks from this possible wormhole, and I need everyone on their toes. Keep me updated. Feel better B'Elanna." "Thank you, Captain," said Torres. "I just hope I don't lose my mind in here!"

As the Captain left, Neelix came through the door to sickbay. He had a steaming pot in his hands. "Well now, how's the patient," said Neelix in his cheery, sometimes irritating way. "The patient is out for blood," quipped the Doctor. "But, she's in no immediate danger Mr. Neelix. What on Earth is that concoction you have there?" "Well," began Neelix. "I read somewhere that humans used to treat colds with something called chicken soup. So, I found an old recipe and made an attempt of it." B'Elanna frowned. "I can't smell a damned thing, but it doesn't look too tempting," she said. "Oh, come now," said Neelix. "At least try it." Neelix filled a spoon with the noodle laden stuff and approached Torres with it. "If you try that 'here comes the starship in for a landing' stuff with me, I'll rip your arm off," Torres said. "I can feed myself." She grabbed the spoon from Neelix and took a tentative slurp. Then another. "You know," she said, "that's actually not too bad." "I'm glad you like it," Neelix said. "There is no known link between chicken soup and curing colds," said the Doctor. "It was just an old Earth rumor. Besides, this cannot be considered a cold. We are, after all, in the Delta Quadrant. However, if you manage to get my patient to eat anything, then I am grateful Mr. Neelix." "It's really pretty good…" began Torres, but she never got to finish her sentence. Suddenly, Torres clutched at her throat and began to take long, whistling breathes. She coughed and a torrent of blood flew out of her mouth. "MOVE MR. NEELIX," screamed the doctor. "MOVE!" Neelix flew out of the way as the doctor grabbed a medical tricorder and scanned Torres. "Her lungs are filling with blood," said the Doctor. "What is this?" The doctor grabbed a hypo spray. Torres was convulsing on her bed now, and her eyes were terrified. The Doctor injected his hypo spray, but Torres kept twitching. The Doctor grabbed another, and injected her again. Finally, Torres settled down, and began breathing semi-normally again. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked straight at the Doctor. "Help me," she said weakly. "What's wrong with me? Am I dying?" The Doctor looked at Torres. "Damn whoever programmed me with emotions," thought the Doctor. He held Torres' hand, and Neelix took the other. "I won't let that happen, Lieutenant. I will find out what's wrong with you. Mr. Neelix, would you help me clean her up please?" "Of course, Doctor."


	2. Contagious

Chapter 2: Contagious

It had been 3 days since B'Elanna's incident, and now the whole crew was on alert, and scared. Torres had gotten worse. The Doctor had to incubate her lungs to keep her going. It seemed that the similarities to the common cold were only in the first stages of the illness. A day after Torres coughed up blood, she had lost consciousness. Her fever was staggering, the highest the doctor had ever seen. He had to keep her in a cold isolation field just to keep her from becoming brain damaged. Captain Janeway demanded updates every 2 hours, and the Doctor was working around the clock. He still could not find any manifestations of germs or virus in Torres' system. All he could tell was that her lungs were filling with bloody fluid, she had a very high fever, and could no longer keep down solid food. The Doctor could not figure out why she was unconscious, but her brain seemed to be functioning normally. Janeway had called a meeting of all senior staff, including the Doctor.

"Maybe it's something that attacks only Klingon biology," said Chakotay. "Perhaps, but I still cannot find any pathogen," said the Doctor. "I'm no doctor, but there has to be something there," said the Captain. "A person can't just get sick without some type of virus or bacteria attacking them," "You are quite correct Captain," said the Doctor. "Either our technology cannot find what is wrong, or it's a type of pathogen that mimics the healthy tissue of the patient. However, Lieutenant Torres' prognosis is not good at all. I have stimulators breathing for her. Her lungs are useless at this point, and I don't know what else to try. I am open to, eh, radical non-medical suggestions at this point." "Perhaps I can reprogram some of my nano-probes to travel through the Lieutenant's body and search for the virus," said Seven of Nine. "They are quite precise, and if they cannot find it nothing will." "That is an excellent idea, but it's not possible," said the Doctor. "In her weakened state the nano-probes may do more harm than good. I am programmed to diagnose and treat illnesses, and my program is diverse. But, I'd give a lot for a real good diagnostician right now, someone who specialized in diagnosing unknown illnesses." "Is anyone on this ship even remotely qualified Doctor," said the Captain. "Well," began the Doctor, "if Kes were still here I'd at least have some help. Lieutenant Paris has been a great help, but his knowledge is limited. No offense, Tom." "None taken," said Tom Paris. "I'm always happy to help, but this has me stumped, too. If there's anything I can…can..A-CHOOO!" Paris sneezed loudly. "I..CHOO!" Paris began violently sneezing. "No," thought the Doctor. "That's how it started with Torres." "SICKBAY NOW, MR. PARIS," yelled the Doctor. The rest of the senior staff jumped up in horror and Paris sneezed again and again. He was helped out to sickbay by the Doctor. "I want a report ASAP," ordered Janeway as the Doctor and Tom left. Janeway turned to Chakotay. "What the hell is happening, Chakotay?" "I don't know," he said. "But it looks like whatever is wrong with B'Elanna is, in fact, contagious. We could all be at risk." "I want us on yellow alert," said Janeway, "until the Doctor finds out what's going on." "Yes, Captain," replied Tuvok. "I would also suggest that the rest of the crew remain away from sick bay, and that a force field be erected around sick bay." "Agreed," said the Captain. "Dismissed, and if anyone else feels ill, report to the Doctor immediately."

Now, Janeway sat alone in her ready room. It took a lot to scare Katherine Janeway, but she was scared now. The fact that the Doctor seemed stumped was terrifying. He had never let them down, but it seemed that an epidemic was now on her ship, far from any Starfleet medical facility, far from any help.

Two more days had gone by. Torres and Paris were now both inside medical force fields, being kept alive artificially. Torres' other organs began to be affected, and the Doctor had to struggle to keep her going. Tom Paris was getting progressively worse. The Doctor had to admit to himself that he needed help or both would die. Maybe everyone would. He still could not detect what was causing the illness, and therefore could not cure it. He had never felt so useless. He was letting his friends down, friends who had accepted him as their equal. The guilt was overwhelming. He actually wished he could cry, as it might help, but he was not programmed to do so. Seven of Nine had been in regularly, with suggestions, none of which did any good. She also, the Doctor could tell, was scared and upset.

Finally, the Doctor came to a decision. "Computer," he began. "Who was the best diagnostician you have on record." The computer searched for a moment. "Please specify timeline," it said. "The best ever, in any time period," replied the Doctor. The computer searched for a moment. "Dr. Gregory House, 20th to 21st century, North America." "Dr. House," thought the Doctor. Gregory House was in every Starfleet medical database. By the early 21st century, he was considered one of the best doctors who had ever lived. His biography was required reading for all medical students, and his personality was infamous. When he was 60 years old, House discovered a revolutionary treatment for the AIDS virus, and had cured more patients of rare illnesses than any other doctor who ever lived. He was considered the best at medicine, the worst in personality.

"Computer," began the doctor, "please show me a holographic representation of Doctor House." There was a beep, and a man appeared in sick bay. He was unshaven, disheveled, and though he had no mind as of yet, his piercing blue eyes conveyed defiance, even menace. He stooped on a long, wooden cane. The Doctor stared for a moment, and then said, "Computer, if you were to assimilate all the biographical and medical history surrounding Doctor House, could you create an accurate representation? The computer thought for a moment, and then answered. "A holographic representation could be created, with a 6% margin of error on personality." "Good enough," said the Doctor. "Do it." There was another beep, and suddenly, the man blinked. His eyes widened, and he turned his head from side to side quickly. "Where am I," said House. He looked over at the Doctor. "Who in the Hell are you, and why are you wearing pajamas?"


	3. The Jerk

Chapter 3: The Jerk

"Doctor House," began the Doctor, "we need your help. I have two…" House cut him off. "Where the Hell am I? Where's Foreman? Where's Cuddy?" "Doctor House, you are on the Federation starship Voyager, and we have a medical emergency." House wasn't listening. He began to slowly walk around the room, looking at all the instruments, the strange beds, the Doctor. Then, suddenly, House realized something. "My leg," he said. "It…it doesn't hurt." House began to walk around briskly. Then, he hopped on his right foot. House was far too intelligent to be grateful. "What did you do to me, skinhead," he demanded. "None of this makes sense." "Doctor House," began the Doctor, I…" House cut him off. "Just House," he said. "Just call me House, damnit." "As you wish," said the Doctor. "House, you are not really who you think you are. You are a holographic representation of a Doctor who dies centuries ago. Using his personality traits, memories and experiences, I have created you. You do not have any pain in your leg because holograms cannot feel pain." House walked over to the Doctor and slammed the tip of his cane into the Doctor's foot. The Doctor couldn't believe it. "How DARE you," he began. "Weird," began House. "If you were telling the truth then my cane shouldn't have been able to make contact with you. But, it did. Another weird thing is that you didn't flinch." "I am a hologram as well. Our computer can make us mimic solid matter, but we do not feel pain." House continued to walk around sick bay. "Wilson," House said. "I beg your pardon," said the doctor. "Wilson must be behind this. What did he do, give me some kind of drug to knock me out, and then setup this crap? Where is he?" "I can assure you that your friend is long dead, House," said the Doctor. "This would be 2374, as you count years." "Bullshit," said House. "I don't have time for games. Either let me out of here, or kill me. Don't insult my intelligence." "Computer," began the Doctor, "alter House's memory files to bring him up to date on current events. Time is of the essence." House was shocked as his mind filled with new memories. Memories of the future. Starfleet, Earth, aliens, warp drive and human history, all were integrated into his mind. House was smart enough to know that something strange was going on. No technology of the 21st century could accomplish this. When the transfer was over, House staggered. "Holy shit," he exclaimed. "AIDS, cancer, all of it. Gone. So many cures. Space travel." He looked at the Doctor. "You've got some nerve, you bastard!" "I'm sorry," said the Doctor. "What do you mean?" House's eyes were savage. "You bring me nearly 300 years into the future, against my will, and just expect me to help you? I have memories, too. I had a life, and now I'm supposed to adjust to all of this? I also guess that once my usefulness, if any, is over, I'll be sucked back into your computer like Cuddy on a first date!" The Doctor was scared. House was very, VERY bright and cunning. That was, of course, exactly his plan. "I do not control what happens on this ship, House," said the Doctor. "The only reason I did not get permission to bring you here is because time is of the essence and holograms are generally not a security risk. We can discuss this with the Captain later. I desperately need your help." "The Captain," said House. He accessed his new memories. "Captain Katherine Janeway. I want to meet her." "They'll be time for that later," said the Doctor. "Right now…" "Right now I'll meet the Captain, or I won't help you do a damned thing. You can't force me without severely screwing up my mind, so go to Hell." "But," pleaded the Doctor, "there's no time right now! Please!" House looked at the bed where B'Elanna lay. "The Klingon will last a little longer," House said. "Hmmm, sexy. I'd do her, even with all that crap on her forehead." "THAT'S RACIST," screamed the Doctor. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know I can't leave this room, so call the damn Captain and tell her to shake her ass over here."

The Doctor was on the bridge now, explaining everything to Janeway. "I'm sorry I didn't ask permission, Captain, but I was desperate for help. I didn't think you'd mind, as he's only a hologram." "So are you, Doctor," said the Captain. "Are you getting cheeky? If I had said you were only a hologram, you'd be unhappy." The Doctor looked embarrassed. "I'm under a lot of stress, Captain. Of course, you're right. He will not help me without first meeting you." The Captain shrugged. "Let's go then. I'll be in sick bay. You have the bridge, Chakotay."

"Wow, nice rack," were the first words House spoke when the Doctor entered, followed by Janeway. "That tight little suit helps a lot, too." The Captain's eyes went wide. "I beg your pardon," she said. "What is a rack?" House grinned. "Titties, knobs, boobs." The Captain was still at a loss. "I'm saying you have breasts that I could drink from for days." For the first time ever, the Doctor saw the Captain's face turn just as red as her uniform. "HOUSE," she began. "We have evolved past those types of references, and we also DO NOT express our sexual desires out loud! We treat men and women as equals, and.." House cut the Captain off, something no one else on Voyager would dare do. "Why don't you leave, Captain, so I can check the back side out? I bet you have an ass that could bend a trailer hitch." "Is he solid, Doctor," asked the Captain. "Yes, ma'am," answered the Doctor. "Computer," said the Captain. Activate bio protocols on hologram House1, simulating all biological responses." There was a beep. The Captain then walked over to House and kicked him in the testicles with everything she had. House doubled over, coughing. "It looks like Seven's new protocol for making holograms have physical feeling works," said the Captain. "Wow," gasped House. A dominatrix! Say, Doc, can we make up some holographic whips and maybe a little leather suit for the Captain? I'm guessing I can make my penis as big as I want." "Look, you vile, sickening human being," began the Captain. "I've read your history, and you are, or were, the best. I'm assuming you like existing. If you don't help us, there's no reason for me to waste valuable energy keeping you online." "Fair enough," said House. "So, after I help you I'll be taken offline anyhow, so what difference does it make. You've got nothing to offer. You can't bring me back to life, and you sure as hell won't keep me switched on forever." The Doctor was listening to all this, clenching his fists. Finally, he lost it. "What kind of Doctor are you? I'm presenting you with the chance to help two people who are dying, maybe more. You're standing here watching two people suffering, and all you can do is play games. I'm going to write an addendum to your history file, telling the world what an uncompassionate, selfish monster you are! There are doctor's who have spent a lifetime studying your methods, and it turns out that you're just an idiot who has no respect for the Hippocratic Oath, and no respect for the suffering! As a doctor, you make me sick! I am sorry, Captain. I'll terminate this program immediately." House sensed he had misjudged the Doctor. He had some holographic balls the size of grapefruits. House thought he'd play a little more. He'd help, but he'd have fun doing it. "Okay, okay," House said. "Hell, what other guy from my time can say he studied aliens. I'll help, but I want to be kept online at all times. Agree to that, or switch me off." "Do you really think you'd have a better chance of curing them with him, Doctor," asked the Captain. "He was a genius of the highest degree," answered the Doctor. "I believe so." "Okay, House," said the Captain, "you've got yourself a deal. But, step out of line and you're gone." The Captain turned to exit. "I knew it," yelled House. "Great ass, too."


	4. The Two Doctors

Chapter 4: The Two Doctors

"So," began House, "what are our symptoms?" "I assume your memory has been updated with all Starfleet medical files," said the Doctor. "Yup," replied House. "I know it all." "Okay," replied the Doctor. "Both patients began exhibiting symptoms of the common cold." "Except that's impossible," said House. "It looks like you guys eliminated the Rhino virus in 2204." "Quite right," said the Doctor. "Hold on," said House. "Computer, give me a holographic representation of a 21st century white board and a black magic marker." "Unable to comply," said the computer. "Holographic program House1 is not authorized to access computer holographic functions." "I'll get it," said the Doctor. But, to the Doctor's astonishment, House requested his order again, only he did it in the Doctor's voice! Immediately, House's old, beloved white board and markers appeared. "Your computer's an idiot," he said. "All this technology, and yet it relies on voice recognition? We had crap to imitate voices even in my time." "I assure you," snapped the Doctor, "that higher command lines require more than just the right voice!" "What if the Captain was in here, and I demanded a scalpel in your voice," said House. "I could carve her up. It looks like the old saying still applies. The smarter they are, the less common sense they have. Still just primates with vocal cords. Nothing else. I'd cry if I gave a shit." The Doctor looked at House, worried. Already he had assimilated himself with this time period. Yes, he had memories that allowed him to access new medical technology, but it was still frightening how easily he had adjusted. "I am here, House," said the Doctor. "I wouldn't allow anything to happen to the Captain." "You're a pussycat," taunted House. "What would you do? Bore an attacker to death?" The Doctor decided to try something. "I know I'd be a match for you, House. You look like those poor homeless souls in the 21st century, unhealthy and weak. You're certainly not a threat." House actually grinned. "First off," he began, "If you're going to play a badass don't show me your true, softie self by saying something like, 'poor homeless souls.' Secondly, we're both holograms so fighting would be pointless." Now, House walked up to the Doctor so he was standing eye to eye. "And, third, if you think you can mind fuck me Doctor, then you really ought to read my biography files again." The two stood, staring at each other for awhile. The Doctor was pissed. He'd give anything to be able to punch this obnoxious ass in the face, but he knew that would serve no purpose. "Hmm," thought House. "He's ready to go. He really ISN'T a pussy after all, and he does give a damn about the people on this tin can. He must really care about these two laying here." Deep down, where no one was allowed to tread, in the very core of his being House felt a respect for this hologram. He was, House could tell, a good doctor. It didn't mean that House wouldn't treat him like crap, though.

"Enough. We can kill each other later," said the Doctor. Let's get to work. House began jotting the symptoms down on his board. He listed EMULATES COMMON COLD, DETERIORATES LUNGS, CAUSING ORGAN FAILURE IN KIDNEYS AND LIVER, UNCONCIOUSNESS, UNDETECTABLE BY STANDARD AND ADVANCED STARFLEET DIAGNOSTIC ROUTINES. "Okay, Doc," began House, "What else?" "It seems the disease began with Lieutenant Torres. About two days after her symptoms began, Lieutenant Paris began exhibiting the same symptoms." "Just those two," House said. "So, Doc, bring me up to speed. What do these two have in common? Are they screwing?" "Are they what?" asked the doctor. House sighed. "Are they having sex?" The Doctor flushed. "I wouldn't know, House. I don't make it my business to ask personal questions of the crew. Why? Do you think it could be sexually transmitted?" "I don't know," House said. "Let's do another biomedic scan." "I did that already," began the Doctor. "Yeah," House said, "but I want to see for myself." House picked up a medical tricorder and began scanning Torres. "So," began House as he was working, "what's your name?" The Doctor flustered. "I do not have a name. I haven't been able to decide on one." House looked at the Doctor, amused. "So, they just call you 'Doctor?'" "Yes," answered the Doctor. "Foreman!" House yelled. "Excuse me?" said the Doctor. "You're Foreman, now. That's what I'm calling you." The Doctor scanned his memory. "Ah, your colleague. He was an excellent doctor. I'm quite frankly flattered." "Foreman," began House, "was an emotional moron. He used to fight me on every damn thing, and always gave me a hard time about everything. Deep down, he wanted to be me." The Doctor was about to protest, then House added, "He was a damn good doctor, though. Pain in the ass, but he knew his stuff." The Doctor stopped himself. He realized this was as close to a compliment as he was ever going to get from House. He was surprised he had gotten that much. He wondered if that 6% margin of error on personality was to blame, or if House really meant it. "I don't care what you call me," said the Doctor. "If we cure these people you can call me anything." House nodded. He finished his scan. "You're right, Foreman," he said. "Nothing here but damaged tissue. No reason WHY it's being damaged, though. It's getting worse. This equipment's only going to keep them alive for about 48 hours."

Just then, the door to sickbay opened. Chakotay came in, holding the Captain around the waist. She was sneezing violently. "Oh, no," said the Doctor. "Oh, God no." "It just started," said a pale Chakotay. "We were on the bridge, and she just started sneezing and coughing." "She's going to lose consciousness!" the Doctor said. "We have to…" Just then, House ran up to the Captain and injected her with a hypo spray. The Captain shuddered, and then stopped sneezing and coughing. "Lay her down, quick!" ordered House. "Excuse me," Chakotay said. "But I don't believe you're in charge of sickbay." "Listen Tonto," said House. "I have an idea, and beside you guys called me." "THAT WAS A RACIST," began Chakotay, but the Doctor cut him off. "Please Commander," said the Doctor. "Just do it sir." Chakotay laid Katherine on the bed, and the clamshell closed over her. House began to push buttons on the medical console. Suddenly, Katherine turned blue. She gasped and flailed. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" screamed the Doctor. House hit some more buttons, and Katherine began to breathe normally. She opened her eyes and looked at House. "I disconnected her lungs from the rest of her body," said House. "All connections have been severed. I put them in stasis and I've got this idiot computer breathing for her using holo-lungs." "Just like I did for Neelix some time ago," said the Doctor. "But, what good will that do?" "If I'm right," said House, "The disease shouldn't spread to the rest of her tissues now. The disease starts in the lungs, and then moves to other organs. It can't leave the lungs now, because technically they're no longer attached to her. Until we find a cure, she'll have to use the holo-lungs. I just hope I caught it before it migrated to other organs." House looked down at the Captain. "How ya feeling, Kate?" he said. The Captain looked at him. "I feel okay for now, House," she said. "Thank you, but you will call me Captain on this ship, do I make myself clear?" "Is she always such a bitch?" asked House. Chakotay walked up to House so they were face to face. "Listen. I don't care if you're a hologram or not. If you insult the Captain again, I'll take appropriate measures!" "Wow," said House. "Tonto's tough. HEY HOW ARE YA HEY HOW ARE YA HEY HOW ARE YA!" Chakotay clenched his teeth and balled his fists. "At ease, Commander," said the Captain. "He's irritating and obnoxious, but he just saved me from becoming like B'Elanna and Tom. We'll deal with his eccentricities if he can help us. Go to the bridge and take command in my absence." "Aye, Captain." With one more look at House, Chakotay left briskly.

"That was the most dangerous, irresponsible thing I've ever seen!" the Doctor screamed. "That type of transition could have killed her!" "Did it work?" asked House. "Yes, but…" "Then, shut up Foreman," said House, "and let's work on a cure." House looked at Janeway. "If I solve this, you'll at least get naked for me right? I mean, you could at least do a little dance, maybe…" Janeway reached up and grabbed House's balls. He winced, as Seven's new protocol for holographic feeling was still active. "You know," gasped House, "you can't move around too much." "Computer," began Janeway, "in 10 seconds remove all genital organs from program House1." There was a beep, and the computer started counting down. "Okay, okay!" House said. "I get it! You want to be the man! No problem! A little lube and I'll be good to go!" Janeway's eyes went wide. "Computer," she said. "Belay my last order." The countdown stopped. "Get to work, you animal," said the Captain. "I want a solution ASAP!" "Sure thing Kate," said House. House turned his back and began checking the computer. The doctor looked over at the Captain and couldn't believe what he saw. Captain Janeway had a smirk on her face, clearly trying not to laugh.


End file.
